So Long, Dusty

If you have been to Soggy Bottom in the last few years you have probably met Dusty. Dusty is an eight-year-old American Paint horse that was given to me when he was about four. He had just been gelded and to this day still has something of the nightlife in him. When I got him he was halter broke and none too happy about that. He was a biter, personable, curious, and independent. Some might say he is a spirited horse. I am not a horse trainer and contracted with one who got dusty ground broke. I continued to work with him on those basics and getting him saddle broke. Our challenge this year was reigning and I hired a very gifted young horse trainer, Kate, for that purpose. She did amazing work with Dusty and after three weeks I was able to ride him. Dusty is a very curious and mischievous animal. One day I was putting together a hayrack. I had all of the nuts and bolts in a carpenter’s apron, tied behind my back. Bent over, I was ratcheting a nut. Dusty came up behind me, nibbled at the apron strings and pulled them apart. He was also a master at untying knots, including the horseman’s knot that is supposed to be impossible for a horse to undo. Given enough time he could figure out how to get the chains unlatched from the gate. Dusty was deeply attached to our mare, Red, whom we put down this past winter. One day I saw Red splayed out on the pasture. Her right rear leg was perpendicular to her body. I thought she had broken it or at least displaced her hip. I could not get her up and was on my way to the house to call the vet. Dusty watched all of this. After I had walked away he approached Red. Dusty nudged her. He grabbed her by the withers and pulled upward. He was relentless. As the phone was ringing at the veterinarian’s office I saw Red stagger upward with Dusty’s coaching. Soon she was walking normally. But always Dusty wanted more than anything to run with the wind. One day I was mounting him. My left foot was in the stirrup and I was swinging my right leg around when he spooked. He broke right which meant that centrifugal force was working against me, not to mention my center of balance was off. I landed on the ground really hard. The wind was knocked out of me but my first thought was that I had broken my right jaw. I also had some pain behind my right ear. I immediately began checking my jaw and trying to catch my breath. I realized that the pain I felt was the force of the riding helmet jammed into the right side of my head. I also knew that if I had not been wearing a helmet I would have incurred a serious head injury. Kate got Dusty settled down and I remounted. We rode for about an hour. The rule at our house has always been that when a horse throws you, get back on. The next week I was too sore to ride. My whole body was jarred. But I had Kate come anyway and she rode Dusty. One day she came in after about an hour. Her eyes were wide as saucers with a huge smile on her face. She beamed, “I got Dusty to canter and he has a very smooth gallop. If you ever want to sell him, please put me on the top of the list.” She talked about training Dusty for barrel racing. So I thought about that over the weekend and when Kate came for the Monday ride I asked her to talk with me for a few minutes. I offered Dusty to her as a gift. Both of them had fallen in love and she is the kind of rider that Dusty needs. She has the youth and skill that these old bones do not have. She will ride him and both can fly across the plains of Kansas. I have discovered that sometimes we love someone or something best when we let them go. I am not giving up horseback riding. I just need a kinder – gentler mount. See the young gelding gallop across the pasture With no restraint, unaware of any audience, Running for the sheer joy of it. He prances back, throwing his head to and fro, Bucking and snorting With the wild abandon of freedom. Trotting around the other horses, He nips and kicks, faints and dodges, Full of himself because he can; Until the mare whinnies and threatens To expel him from the herd, Every horse’s greatest fear. He settles down, Puffing then gasping the last draw of liberty, Until tomorrow.